


Comfort You

by humanveil



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: hp_3some, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Non-Explicit Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-05 19:41:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11020230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanveil/pseuds/humanveil
Summary: Hermione breaks up with Ron, but luckily there’s a couple willing to comfort her.





	Comfort You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Refictionista](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Refictionista/gifts).



> Written for the 2017 hp3somes gift exchange over at LJ. 
> 
> This was my first time writing anything with Draco/Hermione, and my first time writing Hermione in _years_ , so hopefully I did okay. Thank you to my beta for making sure it didn’t suck too bad. Enjoy!

Hermione watches Ron’s retreating back, chest heavy with feelings she can’t explain.

Only when she can no longer hear the tapping of his feet does she let herself sink to the floor, back pressed to the stone wall of the empty classroom, her legs pulled against her chest. She breathes deeply, swallowing down the sadness that creeps its way up her throat.

She had known it was coming, and she suspects Ron had known, too. Their relationship had been rushed from the start, a decision made too quickly in a chaotic post-war atmosphere. It wasn’t meant to last. They simply work better as friends.

That knowledge doesn’t make it any easier to deal with, though.

She blinks quickly as tears threaten to spill, feeling more than a little ridiculous with herself. Things would be fine, eventually. Just as they always had been. She knows that.

*

Astoria slips her hand into Draco’s as they walk, swinging their arms lightly. Their relationship is relatively new, though they had been close friends for quite a while, now.

They walk in a comfortable silence, the halls much more serene at this time of night than they were during the hustle between classes. Draco is only half paying attention to where they’re going, mind in a dreamlike state as he follows Astoria’s movement.

He’s pulled out of his daze abruptly as Astoria pulls him to the side, her brow furrowing as she looks through the door of an unused classroom. “Is that Granger?” she asks, glancing at him.

Draco turns to where she’d been looking, eyes catching sight of a huddled form. He shrugs, disinterested. “Maybe.”

“She looks upset,” Astoria comments, and Draco can hear the genuine concern.

“So?”

Astoria gives him a pointed look, one that lets him know he’s being an ass. “We should ask if she’s okay,” she says.

Draco sighs, the urge to roll his eyes almost irresistible. “Just because you’ve had a crush on her since you were twelve—”

“It’s the proper thing to do!” Astoria says quickly, speaking louder to cut him off. Draco doesn’t miss the light blush on her cheeks.

“It’s none of our business.”

“You’re a gossip, Draco. Everything is usually your business,” Astoria huffs. “Besides, aren’t you supposed to be working on being a nicer person?”

Draco opens his mouth to respond, but Astoria doesn’t offer him the chance. She takes hold of his hand once more, pulls him forcefully towards the empty classroom, and ignores his quiet protests.

Hermione doesn’t look up as they approach the room, so Astoria knocks on the side of the door softly. Draco stands at her side, awkward.

Hermione’s head snaps towards them, eyes widening in surprise when she sees them. Astoria puts a friendly smile on her face and asks, “Everything okay?”

Hermione wipes at her eyes quickly, feeling more than a little embarrassed to be caught. She sniffs, trying her best to smile back. “I’m fine,” she tells them, proud when her voice doesn’t shake.

“See?” Draco mumbles. Astoria pinches his arm and ignores the affronted look he sends her.

“You don’t look fine,” she says. Her concern is evident. A light frown pulls at her mouth, her tone intentionally pitched to be both gentle and kind.

Hermione’s smile falters, and Astoria takes it as a sign to enter the room properly. She drags Draco with her, nudging him to sit on one side of Hermione while she takes the other. Draco goes reluctantly, copying Hermione’s pose and turning his head to look at both her and Astoria.

“Why don’t you tell us what happened?” Astoria prompts.

Hermione tries to wave her concern away, mumbling a quiet, “Oh, it doesn’t matter. You don’t care.”

From the left of her, Draco sighs. “Just tell us, Granger,” he says. “She’s not going to leave you alone until you do.”

Hermione looks at him, and then back to Astoria, her lips twitching slightly. She takes a deep breath. “Well,” she starts, gaze shifting to face the ground. “Ron and I broke up.”

“Oh,” Astoria breathes, offering a sympathetic look. “What happened?”

Hermione picks the non-existent lint from her robes, contemplates if she really wants to open the flood gates. Astoria had never been anything other than kind, and she and Draco had become civil after the war, but it still feels odd letting them see her like this. New.

Eventually, she thinks _to hell with it_ , and starts with the argument her and Ron had had that morning – over a bloody essay, of all things – and then before she knows it she’s spilling the details of months of issues and petty fights. As if now that she’s started she can’t stop.

It feels _good_ to be able to get it off her chest. She hasn’t been able to talk to anyone about it, not really. She can’t talk to Ginny, not only because no one wants to know about their brother’s love life, but because there was always the chance that she’d go and tell Ron, and she hadn’t been able to talk to Harry for the same reason.

But there’s a sense of freedom in telling Draco and Astoria; a comfort that they will, at least, keep it amongst themselves. Or so she hopes.

She gets a little teary eyed at some parts, and Astoria wraps an arm around her, small palm rubbing against her back in slow, soothing circles. To Hermione’s surprise, even Draco voices his opinions; goes as far as to offer some advice. Most of it is insult ridden – and not anything she would ever actually _do_ – but Hermione can appreciate the effort.

With her head down, she doesn’t see the silent exchange pass between the couple. It isn’t very noticeable – a pleading look, a roll of the eyes, a quick, minuscule nod.  

She’s just finished telling them the story of the winter holidays when there’s a shift in atmosphere. It’s nothing more than subtle changes – the tightening of Astoria’s arm, the squirming of Draco’s body, until they’re pressed thigh to thigh – but Hermione notices it.

She looks up, glances between the two. The tears are long gone now; the sadness replaced with a tired, cathartic sense of calm. “Wha…” she tries, only to be cut off by a soft pair of lips.

Astoria is the first to kiss her. It’s slow, gentle. Meant to both excite and comfort. She dips her head, slides the hand on Hermione’s back up to the nape of her neck and uses it to pull the other girl forward. Hermione doesn’t push her away, doesn’t do anything to stop it, but Astoria still keeps the kiss quick. Experimental.

Hermione gasps as they pull apart, wide eyes flicking from Astoria to Draco. “I thought… you two…”

Draco’s lips twitch into a smirk. “We branch out,” he says. “On occasion.”

“Does that mean...”

“Look,” Astoria starts, hand holding hers. “You just broke up with your boyfriend. So I understand if you’re not up for it, but… Well, it could be nice.”

“I…” she looks to Draco, notes the glint in his eye. “Both of you?”

Draco hums, moves his head in a slow nod. “No fun otherwise.”

“We can’t, not in here.”

“We’re not too far from the Room of Requirement,” Draco points out. “It’s where we came from.”

“You get the most relaxing room,” Astoria adds. “Beautiful colours.”

“Very spacious.”

“Soundproof, too.”

“And most importantly,” Draco says. “Private.” He draws the word out, keeps eye contact with Hermione as he says it.

Hermione laughs, airy and quiet and filled with disbelief. “You’re serious.”

“Always.”

“I…” She exhales slowly, looks back to Astoria. “Okay.”

*

The room Hermione walks into _is_ very beautiful. The décor is in shades of beige and earthy colours that she definitely hadn’t expected from Draco, of all people, but it’s nice. Calming. There’s a large, inviting bed in the middle, a cackling fireplace against a wall, a couch in the corner.

She barely has time to take it in though, because Draco is in front of her the moment the door shuts behind them. Unlike Astoria, Draco’s touches are harsher, rougher. Filled with more intent. Hermione can’t help the breathy moan she makes when he kisses her.

He places a hand on her waist, thumb brushing back and forth over the fabric, and moments later another pair joins him. Astoria presses her body against Hermione’s from behind, places her chin on her shoulder.

“If it’s too much,” she starts, voice barely more than a whisper next to Hermione’s ear. “Or if we freak you out. Let us know, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good,” Astoria murmurs, and then from over Hermione’s shoulder, she catches Draco’s mouth with hers. It’s quick. Practiced. “Get on the bed, Draco,” she says, and Draco’s hands slip away as he does just that.

Astoria undresses her, and from the bed Draco watches, all the while removing his own clothing at a leisured pace. Hermione tries not to feel embarrassed, knows she has no reason to be, but she can’t shake the blush being watched causes. Her body is growing warmer by the second; the thrill of experimentation shooting through her, the fierceness of her unexpected attraction. She hasn’t been this excited in weeks.

Astoria pulls her to the bed, lays her down, and peppers her skin with soft, open mouthed kisses. Only once Hermione is a panting, squirming mess does she pull away, lets Draco take over as she removes her robes.

The whole thing is a blur of touch and taste and _exhilaration_. They’re careful with her, gentle, but both so different with their approach. The juxtaposition between Astoria’s straightforward movements, her to-the-point attitude, and Draco’s teasing, almost torturous touches gets to her as much as anything.

Gone is the disappointment from before. Instead of tears she cries moans of ecstasy, the sadness replaced by a burning in her core. Their feel, their touch. The slide of hands and mouths and magic. It’s better than anything she could have imagined just two hours before.

She can feel Astoria’s tongue against her, her body bent back to be caught by Draco’s arms.  His fingers knead her flesh, his mouth attacking her skin with nips and kisses that almost match the pace of Astoria’s. Draco kisses his way to her ear, presses his erection against her back.

“Feel better?”

Hermione can’t help the laugh; light, and quiet, and so, so welcome. “ _Yes.”_


End file.
